Brotherly Worry
by Sam1
Summary: Virgil can't be found and Scott's worried. The blond Tracys are cheeky. And Gordon, well, he's showing his cheeks. Happy belated birthday, Angel-Sue.


**Brotherly Worry**

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own the Tracys, International Rescue, or the Thunderbirds.

 **A/N:** Happy belated birthday, Angel-Sue. I know this is late but my muse has been in hiding. Hope you enjoy it. sam1

"That's it. When I find that stubborn, pain-in-the-ass brother of mine, I'm going to duct tape him to a bed and lock him in the infirmary." Scott stormed through the villa looking in all the obvious areas his brother would be in. So far he'd looked in the lounge, the art studio, and Virgil's room. He'd even checked Two's silo and the green behemoth to no avail. His most recent stop was the kitchen even though he doubted his brother would feel like eating.

"Which stubborn, pain-in-the-ass brother? You do have three, you know?"

Scott jumped slightly at John's voice, "Actually, I have four but I'm looking for my next youngest brother."

"You wound me with such unfounded statements," John grinned. Sobering slightly at his oldest brother's worried expression, he asked, "What's got you so wound up?"

"Virg has been a bit under the weather and with the calls out, he's not been able to get the rest he needs." Scott ran his hands through his hair, sighing. "I told him that he was to go straight to bed after Brains checked him out."

"Ah, so big brother has ignored biggest brother's orders?" John grinned again. "You know he's as stubborn as you are when it comes to obeying such orders. Especially when I'm quite certain that you weren't too calm or rational when you slammed him with that order. Did you even say please?"

Dropping his head on the bar, he muttered, "What in the hell did I do to deserve such a cheeky and sarcastic brother?"

"Did I hear someone talking about me?" Gordon said, walking into the kitchen with a towel tied around his waist. Looking at John, he grinned, "It's always so nice to hear such great descriptions of oneself."

"That was not a compliment," Scott muttered, lightly banging his head. "All I want is to find Virgil and make sure that he's okay."

Whipping off the towel, Gordon bunched it up and shoved it onto the bar before Scott could bang his head again. "Hey, no need to be damaging the bar. Dad will be pissed if you do."

"My eyes. My eyes. Cover it up, bro, before I go blind," John shouted, covering his face.

"Dude, I'm a fine looking specimen with a golden hue to my flesh," Gordon retorted. "You should feel privileged to view such a gorgeous body." Howling with laughter, John slipped off his stool. "What in the hell are you laughing at?"

"Does...oh hell...Does Scott...Does he know...what he's rubbing his face against?" John managed.

Pausing mid bang against the bar, Scott took in the beach towel, "Gordon Cooper Tracy, what in the hell?" Shifting his gaze to his water-loving brother, he shoved his hands against his face. "For the love of our valuable eye sight, cover yourself before we go blind."

"How in the hell am I supposed to get rest if you're yelling?" Virgil snapped from the doorway. His face flushed with a fever and a box of tissue in his hand. "My head is killing me and you're being worse than the Terrible Two on a bad day."

Quickly standing up, Scott tried to get to his next youngest brother. Tried being the key word as he tripped over the still laughing John on the floor. "Aahhhh. Ouch."

"Get off of me, you big lug," John hissed. "Hey, watch where you put your knee."

"Bloody hell," Virgil stomped over to his brothers and pulled Scott free of John before he hurt the blond brother. "Was that really so hard, Scott? Geesh, John may some day want kids. Unless they're like Fish-face." Snatching the towel from the bar, he tossed it at Gordon. "Cover up now before I have a repeat visit from Nausea and Vomit."

Wrapping his towel around his waist again, he sighed dramatically, "Nobody respects an awesome specimen such as me."

"I definitely respect an awful specimen such as yourself," A new voice chimed in. Grinning at the scene before him, Alan winced a bit when he looked at Virgil. "C'mon, Virg, you need to get back to bed." Steering his older brother out of the room, he could be heard, "My room is still nice and dark for you to rest in."

"He was in Alan's room?" Scott asked the room at large.

"Well duh," Gordon said. "Virgil is still waiting for the new bed he ordered. It was supposed to be here yesterday but we were out. Alan offered him his room to use until he could go pick up the bed for Virgil."

Face palming himself, Scott muttered, "I totally forgot about that. Oh, crap...He's going to be pissed but Brains is going to need to check his lungs."

A distant voice echoed back to them, "Keep that damn torture device away from me."

"He does know that it's a stethoscope and not a torture device, right?" Scott asked.

"It is a torture device," Virgil's disembodied voice retorted.

"Give it up, Scott, you're not going to change his mind," John said, pulling himself up from the floor. "Just relax and know that he's in capable hands right now."

Plopping back down on his stool, the oldest Tracy brother sighed, "I know but it's not normal when he's ill and I can't help but worry about him."

"Worrying is okay but playing smother brother is not what he needs," John said.

"I'm sexy and I know it," Gordon sang, shaking his rear.

"Bloody hell, stop singing, Gords," Scott snapped, covering his ears.

"Better watch it, bro, he's gone British on us," John said, grinning.

Banging his head against the bar again, Scott muttered, "What in the hell did I ever do to deserve this torture?"


End file.
